


Wind and Cardamom

by Arsenic



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-09-11
Updated: 2006-09-11
Packaged: 2021-01-02 00:50:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21152852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arsenic/pseuds/Arsenic
Summary: Challenge: Hermione/anyone, taste





	Wind and Cardamom

**Author's Note:**

> Written for hpshortfics

Hermione feels, more so than she ever has before, like the child of two dentists when she kisses Viktor and thinks, "Mm, sage and peppermint."

The taste is a surprise, really, because Hermione has caught more than one pureblood Gryffindor cleaning her teeth by way of magic, which seems--to Hermione, at least--to take some of the fun out of it. But no, Viktor definitely brushes the old fashioned way. Hermione exhales on an, "mm," and presses her tongue in for more, and Viktor _likes_ that.

Ron always tastes likes Droobles, a mixture of fruit and too much sugar and. . .Ron. It's comforting, and sometimes Hermione will run her tongue over her own teeth in the evenings before she brushes it off.

The last time she kisses Ron, after they have fought long and hard and the kiss is just a formality, a good-bye that seems safer than words, after that it takes her three days to brush her teeth, and there's nothing for it, she has to augment the action with magic.

It's not until the taste fades completely from her mind that she can return the looks people give her, and they do look. To her surprise the first person who tempts her to glance up is someone she knows, has known for, well, a good long time.

Angelina walks into Hermione's shop and says, "Hello then," like it hasn't been four or so years since they've last seen each other.

Well, of course, Hermione's seen Angelina. How could she not, with Harry as a best friend and Ron as an, ah, recovering best friend? "Congratulations on the World Cup." Curiously, "You need a book?"

"Thanks," Angelina says, baring her white, imperfect teeth in a smile that Hermione can't help returning. "I wouldn't mind one."

"What subject?" Hermione built this store from the ground up and there isn't a thing she can't find in it. She has braved the werewolf clans of Ireland to find out if there are any sources she should be stocking, and Vampire enclaves in Ethiopia to make sure she has the very latest in blood-culture studies. The store is impeccably tidy in a way that Hermione's flat will never be, and organized in a way that her mind almost always is. Angelina's smile shakes a few things out of place.

"Metal charming."

"Ooh, I just got in something new on that. Over from America, they're making some pretty impressive strides. Soon the WQA is going to have to start regulating all the balls."

"That's actually- Well, they've offered me a job, the association."

Hermione slides off the stool behind the counter and goes to hunt down the books Angelina wants. Idly, she asks, "You're giving up playing?"

Angelina's, "It's a bit hard on the body," is soft.

Hermione doesn't look around, keeps her tone casual as she asks, "Injuries?"

"Four broken bones in the last year alone. Healers seem to think I might not have gotten the necessary amounts of calcium when I was kid."

"My parents were obsessed with my calcium intake."

"Well," Angelina takes a breath in, and Hermione waits to see if she'll say anything else. She does, "My mum was an Auror. Killed in the line of duty when I was pretty young, and then it was just my dad and me, and he tried, really, but."

Hermione thinks of how it would have been if it had just been her dad and her. There probably would have been _more_ milk. And a lot fewer hugs. She turns around. "Calcium deficiency aside, he seems to have done a pretty good job."

Angelina tilts her head slightly, as if deciding how to take Hermione's statement. "Thanks."

Hermione holds out the book to her. Angelina takes it. Hermione says, "Look, if you mind me asking, just don't answer, but-"

"Why your bookshop?"

"It's a bit out of the way," Hermione says. Hermione's shop is in Northern Wales. Angelina plays for a German team.

"You used to know everything. I thought this would be a good place to start."

Hermione laughs a little. "I used to _think_ I knew everything."

Angelina takes a step closer. "You knew more than anyone else."

Hermione wonders if maybe she should take a step backward. Instead, she takes one toward Angelina, invading her space. Angelina says, "And I thought it might be nice to see you again."

Hermione frowns. The two of them were never close. Angelina's face lights up in something that might be a blush. The looks is unfamiliar on her. She mumbles, "Locker room gossip."

Hermione repeats, "Locker room-"

"Viktor Krum. He played for us two years back, when he was free-lancing to get the Bulgarians to up his pay. He said that you, y'know, were. . .nice. And I thought maybe you'd still have a thing for Quidditch players."

"But-"

"It was sort of hot, you see, the way you would pretend to watch the practices, but were really doing work. Because you cared about them, I mean, Potter and Weasley, right? But not enough to let it take you over."

The observation decides something in Hermione. "Quidditch players are. . .nice."

Angelina leans in, "We can be."

She tastes of wind and cardamom, and something that Hermione can't quite identify. She'll need another taste to figure it out.


End file.
